Revelation
by AGoldenCharm
Summary: It's Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury's wedding day, and Mike is starting to lose his mind a little.


If there's one thing Mike likes more than anything about weddings, it's the chance to dress up in his best suit and tie. And he knows that sounds lame because there are a thousand other "magical" things that are happening on a wedding day- the bride in her white dress, the decorations, the reception, the irrefutable feeling of love in the air- but there's nothing like the feeling of putting on a crisp white button down and knotting a half-Windsor around his neck, nothing like the feeling of stepping into his best leather shoes and slicking back his hair. His mom used to tease him that he was like a little girl playing dress-up whenever he got the opportunity, but he always insisted that he just liked to look nice given the occasion.

And today is no exception. He is grateful for the coolness of the fabric as he gets dressed, grateful for the ample amount of time he has before the wedding starts, and grateful that he will get to see his friends again - a rarity that he hasn't experienced since Christmas break. And while it'll be nice to see everyone in one room again, all together to celebrate Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury's marriage, he's been waiting for this moment in an enormous bout of déjà vu.

He feels like every return back to Lima is a waiting game. A waiting game with only one rule: _Be patient and let Tina decide what she wants. _He thought that after Christmas break, after they had gone sledding together and even gone out for another coffee, that she'd be willing to consider their relationship again, but on the last day he was in Lima before returning to school at Joffrey, they had met up to watch Les Mis together at the Lima Theater and she hadn't uttered a word about the two of them potentially getting back together. There was no confirmation, but no outright denial either. She had never broached the topic again since he went back to school, but she hadn't squashed the possibility either. And Mike wasn't about to bring it up if she wasn't ready to talk about it. The waiting game, in short, was killing him.

But this had to be it, right? She had to have been thinking non-stop about this wedding date for the past few months, just like he had, because they were going to be in the same room again. Right?

To make matters worse, Blaine had been sending him texts about how Tina has "flown off the handle a little" and when Mike asked why in total alarm, Blaine had explained how Tina was displaying a (clearly unrequited) crush on the definitely _not_ heterosexual Blaine Anderson. At first, Mike had been annoyed. Then, simply confused.

What was he to make of something like this? Tina _knows_ Blaine is gay, it's not like she could possibly believe she was capable of changing his sexual orientation, could she? He wanted to talk to her about it, ask her if everything was okay, but it wasn't his place to pry.

Once he arrives at the wedding, albeit a little late, nearly everyone he knows is already there - including Tina. They're all seated at the pews facing the altar and his first instinct is to go sit next to Tina, but he refrains. Nothing is the same anymore. Nothing is the way he used to know it. And he doesn't know if this wedding, this day, or anything else is about to change that.

* * *

Mike pulls Blaine aside from the dance floor after witnessing Tina blow up at Kurt. As if this day couldn't get any worse, as if Ms. Pillsbury disappearing from her own wedding wasn't bad enough, the tension in the room is painfully palpable.

"Dude, I'm sorry, I really don't know why she-" Blaine starts off right away.

"No, no, I'm not blaming you for anything," Mike shakes his head vigorously. "You don't have to apologize. I just- I- do you think she's really moved on?"

"_What_?" Blaine stares, as if not understanding a word coming out of Mike's mouth.

"Do you think she's moved on," Mike repeats, glancing over at Tina as she makes her way over to Santana and Quinn. "She's already crushing on other guys and I'm just - I don't know, my friends at Joffrey keep telling me to start dating other girls but I just don't... really _want _to."

"Mike," Blaine frowns deeply, "I don't think she's moved on at all. Don't you think it's possible that she _thinks_ she's ready to move on, but isn't? Why else would she like me? I mean, I'm always there for her, but maybe she's- I dunno- transferring her emotions for you onto me? We're all so close that maybe she feels safe liking me. Anyway, I gotta go - gotta meet up with Kurt."

And with that, Blaine whisks off, no doubt to rekindle things with Kurt, leaving Mike with his thoughts and Blaine's final words.

What Blaine had said sounded possible, sure, but what if he was just being nice? What if Tina really _is_ ready to move on? There's no rule of attraction that says a girl can't have feelings for a guy, regardless of his sexual orientation. Obviously, it isn't a basis for a relationship, but she could still have a crush on him. She could still be ready to have feelings for someone new.

Frustrated, Mike takes off his jacket and slings it over his shoulder. The music is winding down and people seem to be heading off to their hotel rooms. He should too, really, if he wants to get any rest for the night. God knows the sleep better be worth it with how much he's paying to spend the night - and out of his own pocket, too, even though his dad had offered to pay. Ever since going off to college and seeing his tuition bill every semester - even _with_ his scholarship - Mike has felt queasy about asking for money from his parents. Picking up the barista gig at the Starbucks near his dorm had been a snap decision but definitely worth it.

As he rolls up his sleeves and starts to head toward the door - but not before saying good night to Sam, Brittany, Quinn, Santana, and everyone else on his way out. Santana and Quinn are clearly buzzed and clutching onto each other as if afraid of collapsing right then and there, and Sam and Brittany are slow dancing to an admittedly rather quick-paced song. He smiles faintly at the sight of all his high school friends having fun, smiling, being together again. He even says good night to Tina, who's by herself by the punch bowl and looking tired out of her mind.

"Heading to bed," Mike says to her with a small smile and gives her a two-fingered salute. "Have a good night."

Tina looks up at him and opens her mouth slowly, "Night."

He doesn't know why he's disappointed when she doesn't say anything more than that. Maybe he expected her to say "Wait! Let's talk about us" or "I missed you" or _anything_ but she doesn't and he has to accept that.

Maybe he's been playing the lovesick puppy for too long. Maybe he's jumping the gun with this whole waiting game. Maybe by assuming that one day, Tina will want to get back together with him, he's preventing himself from so much more. Ethan, his roommate, keeps telling him that he's too young to be so into a girl. After all, he's only nineteen and barely out of high school. He's got a long way to go before any of the long-term stuff.

But it's _Tina_ and he can't forget about her the way he can just forget about homework or last night's leftovers or next week's schedule. Her voice, her laugh, her everything is etched into the landscape of his mind, and he's learned the way she weaves through his brain because he can never seem to get enough of her.

Mike shuffles his way to the 3rd floor and to the middle of the hallway, where his room is. He's about to slip his card key through the slot when he hears footsteps. Fast ones.

He nearly has a heart attack when he sees who they belong to. Tina is standing there, her chest heaving a little and her hair slightly astray.

"I- hi," he says with a slight stammer.

"How tired are you, on a scale from 1 to 10?"

"Four."

"Then can I come in?"

Astounded, he nods numbly as he opens the door and pockets the key, letting her enter the room before him and not believing his eyes. She stares at the single bed, still untouched, and flops down on it, stomach facing down and face buried in one of the pillows.

He waits. He knows he has to, knows she's about to say something or maybe cry and that he has to wait for it all to come out and then decide what to do from there. So instead of saying anything, he mutely hangs his jacket up in the little closet beside the bathroom and toes off his shoes before sitting down next to her prone body.

"I've been horrible," Tina finally says, and it comes out like a croak. A slow, debilitated croak that he grasps onto the moment it leaves her mouth and he is immediately overcome with the urge to embrace her. He refrains.

"Why? How?"

"I've been trying to get over you since the day you left for Joffrey," she mumbles into the pillow. "I didn't want to but I knew I had to. I wanted to be strong about it. Sensible."

"You were," he reasons. "More than I was."

She turns on her back and glances at him for the tiniest fraction of a second before looking up at the ceiling. "This wasn't like a normal breakup."

"No," he agrees.

"I couldn't blame you. I couldn't blame myself. I didn't _want_ to blame either of us. But then where does the blame go?"

"Why does it have to go anywhere?"

Tina shrugs. "It makes things easier, usually."

They're quiet for a while. Mike plays with his rolled up sleeves, then switches to fiddling with his watch, then switches back to the sleeves. He's fidgety.

"I like Blaine."

"So I've been told."

"I- _no_," Tina exhales in what can only be exasperation, "I know Blaine told you. I know he tells you everything. It looks bad,I _know_. But I really _do _like him."

"But-"

"Just listen," she cuts him off, rubbing her eyes wearily. "I'm not totally deluded, okay? I know I can't be with him, but as I spent more and more time with him, I kept telling myself: I really like him. I could _see_ myself being with someone like him. That was the first step toward moving on, right? Being able to picture yourself with someone else?"

The words hit him like a tidal wave. So this was it. Her crush on Blaine was more than just a throwaway crush, it was her sign that she was ready to put their past behind her. It was her sign that she was ready to be with anyone but him.

He doesn't say anything. He doesn't know _what_ to say.

"Mike?"

"Y-yeah?"

Tina rolls onto her side so that she's facing him, her eyelashes fluttering slightly as she looks up at him. "Never mind."

"Okay."

They're dead silent again. He wants to fill the air with something - _anything_. But he also doesn't want her to leave. Not yet. Even though she's just admitted that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't interested in being with him anymore.

"D'you wanna watch a movie?" Mike asks gently, retrieving his backpack from under the bed and pulling out his laptop.

She stares at him for a moment before revealing a flicker of a smile. "_The Breakfast Club_?"

"_The Breakfast Club_," he agrees, and powers on his laptop before opening up the mp4 file from its folder.

He scoots back so that his spine is against the headboard of the bed, and she does the same. There's a solid four or five inches between them as the music starts to play and Anthony Michael Hall's voiceover begins. Together, they watch the movie they've already seen six or seven times, but this time, she isn't nestled against his chest. This time, he doesn't have his arm looped around her. This time, they do not intertwine their ankles.

This time, they are a new kind of silent.

* * *

It doesn't occur to him that it's morning until the sunlight begins to flood into the room. It also doesn't occur to him that he and Tina must have fallen asleep in the middle of the movie last night until he sees her lying figure curled up at the edge of the bed. She's snoring ever so slightly, something she's always been embarrassed about no matter how many times he insisted that everyone snores a little.

Mike shifts a little in an attempt to quietly get out of bed, but she jolts awake instantly. Her eyes are filled with confusion as she takes in the scene of the room and then glances at him, looking just as tired as she had last night.

"We fell asleep," Tina says unnecessarily.

"We did."

She grabs her purse from the ground and pulls out her phone, probably checking for messages. "Damn. It's nine-thirty already."

"Oh."

"I told Quinn and Mercedes I'd meet them for breakfast downstairs at nine."

"Breakfast?"

"Yeah- the hotel serves a continental breakfast every morning. Do- do you wanna come?"

Mike senses the hesitancy in her voice and scratches the back of his head awkwardly, "Uh- nah, I'm fine. Not too hungry. Besides, I need to shower."

"Okay," she nods, collecting her purse and slinging it over her shoulder. "I should go then."

"Oh. Okay."

He walks her to the door, a total of maybe five feet, and she opens the door slowly. He holds it open as she fixes her hair haphazardly.

"Um- bye, then," Tina says quietly, glancing back at him over her shoulder as she starts to walk out.

_Wait, _he doesn't say, _Can't you just give me a yes or no? A no, I don't ever want to be with you again? Or a yes, I'm just a little confused right now but I promise I want to give this another shot? Don't you miss me the way I've missed you?_

"Bye," he says instead.

She heads out. Then down the hallway. Then to the stairwell. And then, she's gone.

Mike closes the door slowly and sits down on the hotel bed, burying his face in his hands as he groans out loud. Maybe this is the end of the waiting game. Maybe by leaving his room this morning without so much as a hand squeeze or hopeful smile, Tina was walking out of his life forever. Maybe this is the end.

Maybe.

There's a frantic, uneven knocking on his door that nearly causes him to fall off the bed. He refuses to let his hopes get up, refuses to let his imagination get the better of him as he slowly gets up to open it, his entire body trembling.

It's her.

And god, you know that timpani-like drumming your heart does when you know something's about to happen and even though it's only like a nanosecond before it does, you can feel every ounce of your body aching for it to happen?

Tina has both arms thrown around his neck, her entire body pressed up against his, her hands burying into his hair the moment she lays her lips on his and he can feel his entire universe exploding. God, she tastes a little like morning breath but mostly like _Tina_ and her lips are three thousand times softer than he remembered, her tongue more intoxicating than he remembered, the desperation behind her wandering hands more than he could have wished for for today, for last night, for the past six months.

He's taken aback at first, sure, so initially it's just her mouth moving against his as he tries to understand what's happening, but he falls into it. Fast. He kisses back with a fierceness he didn't even know he possessed and they trip back into the room together, their feet tangling with one another's and their hands traveling up and down each other's bodies nonstop. He walks her backward and is only vaguely aware of the _thud_ that sounds when her back hits the wall and he's about to apologize but is interrupted by a soft moan that escapes her lips and it's like his entire body's been lit afire.

And it wouldn't be Tina Cohen-Chang if she didn't take charge again, making _him_ backpedal as she presses forward, her lips warm as she leaves his mouth only to kiss along his chin, down his neck, against his collarbone... He feels his breaths catch in the back of his throat and is only more numbed when she pushes forward once more and they collapse on the bed together. He can feel her shift slightly so that she's planted a knee on either side of his torso, so that she's effectively straddled him and doesn't show any sign of stopping the streamline of kisses up and down his neck.

He feels hot. Hot, hot, hot, and maybe he's even sweating a little, how the hell is he supposed to know, but everything about this moment is so heated, so rushed, so demanding that it only makes sense that he can feel the warmth coming from both of their bodies like this. And it's not the only reason why he feels a sense of thrill and relief when she begins to unbutton his very wrinkled shirt, her fingers fumbling a little as she sits him up, as her lips return to his mouth, as both of them are gasping for breath.

It takes every last drop of will power he has to say the next word he knows he has to say.

"Wait."

Her hands freeze from where they are - just over his final button- and he can see the panic crossing her face.

"What?"

"Does this- does this mean-"

"Mike," Tina's voice is strained. Her face is still barely an inch away from his. He can feel each of her exhalations against his skin and there's something enrapturing about the way she can't seem to regain control. "I'm not ready to be over you."

It's only seven words, but it comes to him like a long-awaited revelation.

"Me neither," he breathes into her ear. "I don't think I ever was."


End file.
